Tightrope

FEATURED ARTICLES ABOUT TIGHTROPE - PAGE 4

James Elkington is a reluctant frontman. The Zincs' singer always anticipated finding an "Axl Rose-type character" to front his band, content to hang in the background and focus on either guitar or drums. As such, the band's first show--at the Hideout--was a nightmare for the British transplant, who took to the stage with a degree of trepidation usually reserved for tightrope walkers and lion tamers. "I was beyond terrified," he said. But Elkington survived, eventually developing a degree of comfort as the band's focal point--a position he maintains on the recently released "Black Pompadour," a gloomy guitar record built around the singer's mellow baritone and dark lyrics.

NEW YORK — It's all about billing in this town, and Marquette cheerily clung to a high-wire identity, squeezing every bit of drama from the past few weeks and certainly from two Big East tournament victories before Friday. The problem with tightrope acts, of course, is the fall. And the Golden Eagles committed one too many spills in an 80-57 loss to Georgetown (23-9) in a tournament semifinal, withering down the stretch after twice climbing out of deep holes. First came the Hoyas' 15-4 run to start the game.

The circus tent is ripped, and the ropes are frayed. Trapeze artists balance on rickety boards and seem slightly nervous. Tightrope walkers sway only 4 feet off the ground. This is a sad circus. But for the boys and the men in the audience, such details do not matter. With wide eyes, they watch the performers. They laugh at the clowns' slapstick antics and clap when the announcer tells them to do so. "I have never seen this before, not even on television," says Abdul Manan, 58, sitting in a plastic chair in the front row. "I cannot wait to see what will happen next."

Hey K.C., So you and I vacate the United Center and some clowns move in. Symbolic, no? What do you say when we're old and gray we take in the circus sometime? Because, yep, we're missing another one as our guys are off to the great unknown while the elephants and tightrope walkers take up residence. I can't complain about this one. I'm writing this in the desert heat of Glendale, Ariz., where the Blackhawks open against the Coyotes on Tuesday night. Then I hit Dallas, Toronto, San Jose, Anaheim and Los Angeles.

Incredibly, some three decades have passed since Peter Shaffer's once-edgy "Equus" first awakened London and New York audiences to the steamy and sensual fusion of first-time sex, wide-eyed horses, errant parents and filial guilt. Most of the audience members at the Chicago revival from The Hypocrites weren't even born when this post-absurdist psychodrama first galloped onto the international theater scene, snagging both a Tony and an unusually broad following in the 1970s. But thanks to an uncommonly passionate production from the director Sean Graney, those young viewers at the Athenaeum Theatre sat riveted in their seats.

By Saundra Amrhein SARASOTA, Fla., June 16 (Reuters) - Dressed casually in a T-shirt, calf-length cargo pants and flip-flops, Nik Wallenda looks no different from many of the hundreds of spectators who have turned out in recent days to watch him practice for his next high-wire act. There are no pretentious airs about him, and no spangled outfits. "Hey, how ya doing, man?" he asked while stopping to shake the hand of a man trying to take his picture with an iPad and then pausing to high-five a few kids.

Herman Geltenfelter, our neighborhood groaner and complainer, is the kind of guy who sees nothing but a black sky, even when the sun is shining. This weekend, for instance, he was leaning on his back fence and unloading his worst fears about a couple of subjects--the Year 2000 and the economy. "I'm nervous as a cat about my investments," he started out. "I wish those confusing `experts' would all work off the same page. One swears the U.S. economy is rock-solid, even though it's slowing down.

Doug Jones walked into Wrigley Field with glowing credentials in 1996 and was ushered out the door before the season was even half over. Mel Rojas was dubbed 1997's designated savior but quickly evolved into the biggest free-agent flop of the Ed Lynch era. Now behind Door No. 3 stands Rod Beck, the latest in a series of veteran closers and perhaps general manager Lynch's last chance to get it right. The pot-bellied Beck may not be responsible for the disastrous performances of Jones and Rojas, but their glaring ineffectiveness in the closer role over the last two years makes Beck's job as tenuous as a one-legged tightrope walker.

The people at New Tuners Theatre have a favorite term for "Stages '99," their annual theatrical marathon. It's "Death by Musicals." Unless you hate show tunes, a premature demise at the Theatre Building this weekend would indeed be a melodic way to depart this world. Between Saturday morning and Sunday evening, it will be possible to see and hear staged readings -- and singings -- of six new musicals in various stages of development. There are three time slots each day, with a choice of two shows per session.